Twilight draped itself over the city like a soft shawl, gentle and familiar, as if the world were settling in for a well-earned rest.
The sun hovered low on the horizon, a glowing orange disc melting behind the rows of trees and tiled rooftops, its dying light stretching long across the streets. Everything it touched—the cracked pavement, the walls of the old shops, the cycling silhouettes—was painted in shades of honey, apricot, and tangerine.
Birds perched on the telephone wires in loose little clusters, chirping their evening songs as though gossiping about their day.
From a nearby courtyard came the sound of a mother calling her child home, her voice fading warmly in the breeze. The faint clatter of pans, the rustling of laundry, and the rhythmic creak of bicycle wheels blended together into the comforting hum of an ordinary neighborhood winding down.
People leaving their workplaces moved with a certain softness—unhurried, unbothered. Some laughed quietly with their coworkers, others carried bags of vegetables from market stalls that were closing for the night. Even the air felt slower, thicker with warmth and the scent of cooking oil, simmering soups, and drying leaves.
Into this golden hour, Jia Lan pedaled her bicycle.
Her college bag rested lightly on her back as her hair fluttered behind her like a ribbon caught in the wind. The mild evening breeze brushed against her cheeks, cool enough to refresh her, warm enough to cradle her, stirring with it the faint smells of roasted chestnuts, fresh laundry, and someone's stir-fry drifting down the block.
After a long, exhausting day of lectures, note-taking, answering classmates' questions, and fighting a discreet battle against afternoon sleepiness, this slow ride felt like a little reward—one only she could feel.
She biked past a group of children chasing each other with colorful paper windmills that spun wildly in the wind. Their laughter—shrill, messy, pure—rose into the air like little firecrackers.
Further ahead, an elderly couple strolled arm in arm, moving with careful but steady steps, murmuring to each other about vegetable prices and medicine shops.
A dog dozed lazily near a lamppost, lifting only one ear as she cycled past.
Everything was simple.
Everything was ordinary.
And yet, the soft calm of it spread through Jia Lan's chest like warm tea.
She inhaled deeply, letting the crisp breeze fill her lungs. The sky was turning deeper shades of peach and rose, and the streetlamps were flickering awake one by one, tiny halos of light in the settling dusk.
Life really is beautiful, Jia Lan thought, her heart softening with a tenderness she almost didn't recognize.
Who would've imagined I'd end up in a place this warm, this peaceful…?
She tightened her grip on the handlebars just slightly, as if grounding herself in the moment, letting the comforting simplicity of this 80s evening sink into her bones.
For a brief second, she wondered if she had accidentally stepped into a dream.
Or perhaps… she had been given a second chance far kinder than she deserved.
But tonight, under the melting sun and singing sparrows, she didn't question it.
She simply let herself feel it—
warmth, belonging, and quiet, golden joy.
Her bicycle rolled smoothly toward her courtyard entrance. The familiar gate came into view, its wood glowing in the sunset. Jia Lan hopped off and wheeled her bicycle inside.
When she suddenly heard a breathless voice:
"Lan Lan—let me do it!"
She turned, startled.
Shen Mingrui jogged toward her from outside the gate, slightly out of breath, hair a bit messy, face suspiciously bright. One hand held a steaming paper package. With the other, he reached for her bicycle handles.
Before Jia Lan could react, he had already:
—handed her the warm food package,
—taken control of her bicycle,
—pushed it neatly inside the courtyard,
—and parked it against the wall with practiced ease.
It all happened so fast that Jia Lan just stood there, frozen like a wooden doll, her mouth faintly open and the warm package resting in her arms.
Shen Mingrui dusted off his hands, then came toward her, rubbing the back of his neck shyly.
"Lan Lan…" He smiled, eyes curving up foolishly. "I, uh… I brought you some snacks. There's this new shop in town—really popular these days! They were selling out fast, but I managed to buy some. I thought maybe you would like it…"
His ears were red.
His smile even redder.
Jia Lan, however, had only registered one word—
Snack.
Instantly revived, she blinked twice and asked, almost urgently:
"Snack? What snack?"
She opened the warm paper packet.
Inside was a beautifully fried, golden-brown jianbing roll filled with chopped scallions, crispy layers, and a drizzle of sweet-spicy sauce—still steaming hot. Next to it was a small pack of fried sesame rice balls, coated in sugar.
Her stomach practically cheered.
Without hesitation, she tore off a bite.
The crispy edge shattered perfectly, releasing the aroma of sauce and fresh scallions. Her eyes softened in bliss as she chewed. Everything else—the courtyard, her bicycle, Shen Mingrui—momentarily disappeared from her awareness.
She ate another piece.
Only after swallowing the third bite did she remember:
Shen Mingrui was still standing there.
Watching her.
With the expression of a puppy waiting to be praised.
Feeling a bit guilty for ignoring him, Jia Lan extended the jianbing toward him. "…Would you like some?"
Shen Mingrui looked as though she had offered him the entire world.
"Yes! Yes, of course! I mean—just a little! No, actually—however much you want to give!" he babbled senselessly, grabbing a bite.
Then he began talking.
And talking.
And talking.
Completely nonsense—about how the shop had a long queue, how the owner's wife scolded some customer, how he ran so fast carrying the hot snack that he nearly tripped, how his bicycle bell didn't work anymore—
Jia Lan listened, chewing rhythmically, nodding at all the right points.
Somewhere between bite number five and bite number ten, neither of them realized the snack had disappeared completely—finished down to the last sesame crumb.
Jia Lan licked her fingers lightly. "It's getting late. I should go inside."
"Yes, yes—you should," Shen Mingrui said immediately, bobbing his head. "It's, uh, very late. Very, very late."
Jia Lan turned toward the courtyard door, stepping inside—
"Lan Lan!"
She froze mid-step and turned around.
Shen Mingrui stood there stiffly, hands clenched at his sides, eyes bright with something nervous and hopeful.
For a moment he didn't speak.
He simply stared.
Then, suddenly, words burst out of him like fireworks:
"My name is Shen Mingrui! I'm twenty-one! My grandfather is Shen Lao—a retired military officer! My grandmother is a housewife! My father has an elder brother and three sisters! They all live separately so there's no family drama! I work at the Machinery Bureau and earn a stable salary! I… I…"
He swallowed hard, chest rising and falling.
"…I like you, Lan Lan."
The air stilled.
Even the birds seemed to pause.
Shen Mingrui took a shaky breath and continued, voice trembling but determined:
"I want to spend my whole life with you. If you don't want to live with my family, you don't have to—I have my own house. I'll give you all my salary. Every bit of it! You can manage everything. I just—I just want to be with you."
He said it all in one breath, as if afraid he would lose courage if he stopped.
Jia Lan blinked at him.
She knew he liked her. Anyone could see it.
But she didn't expect… this kind of confession.
So straightforward.
So desperate.
So sincere.
She stood there, heart thumping, unsure what to say. But then she saw his eyes—those hopeful, trembling eyes waiting for a verdict.
Finally, softly, she said:
"…Fine. I'll give you a chance."
Shen Mingrui's brain crashed.
Then rebooted.
Then blew up.
"R–really? Really?! Lan Lan, I—I won't do anything wrong! I'll keep my word! I'll treat you well for my whole life! You'll never regret—"
"Mm-hm." Jia Lan cut him off calmly. "I'm going inside. Goodbye."
Shen Mingrui, still half-floating in the sky, nodded rapidly.
"Goodbye, Lan Lan!! Goodbye!!"
He waved both hands like a fool as she walked in.
Then he turned around and practically skipped home—smiling so widely his neighbors probably thought he'd won the lottery.
Jia Lan, meanwhile, entered her house and closed the door behind her.
"Aunt Li! I'm back!"
Aunt Li peeked out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.
"Welcome home, Lan Lan. How was your day—wait… why are you smiling so brightly? What happened…?"
Jia Lan opened her mouth—
To be continued...
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